


Love Me! (If That's What You Wanna Do)

by cpacesowboyed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), i miss klance, theyre bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29601306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpacesowboyed/pseuds/cpacesowboyed
Summary: Lance and Nyma's relationship was known for being an off and on thing, but when Rolo comes in between the couple, Lance begins to fear that this time it really is off. To hide his shame over being dumped and replaced in less than a day, he tells the entire soccer team that he's already found a new girlfriend. A better girlfriend. The only problem? He hasn't and word has already gotten out, meaning it's too late to back track.Keith Kogane has been building his walls up high ever since he first learned how. Between his shitty father, absent mother, and runaway brother, he can't really pinpoint who caused him to begin turning people away but he suspected all three of them had something to do with it. Now his dad is sick, his mom is sending him Facebook friend requests, and Shiro is back in town asking to fix their shattered relationship. On top of all of that he somehow got himself mixed up with James Griffin, the captain of Altea Academy's soccer team.Lance can't think of anyone worse to date than Keith Kogane. Keith can think of a million reasons not to date Lance McClain and a million more to do it anyway.  As their web of lies continues to grow, so does their friendship and feelings toward each other.
Relationships: Acxa/Ezor (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance/Nyma (Voltron), Nyma/Rolo (Voltron)
Kudos: 11





	Love Me! (If That's What You Wanna Do)

**Author's Note:**

> a fortune cookie told me to post this

“What does that even mean?” The moment plays in his head on a loop. Like a broken record. And it’s annoying. 

There’s a breeze indicating that fall was here and in full swing. Some students had already started wearing their warmer uniforms-blue long sleeves with the school’s logo embroidered into a corner and a white collared shirt underneath-welcoming the season.

“I’m saying,” Nyma responded, obviously annoyed. “That we’re over. For real this time.”

This was the little game that they played. One of them would call their relationship off and then on and then off again. It never really stayed one particular way for too long but this time it felt like they would be off for a while.

Honestly? He didn’t know what prompted the breakup this time. He didn’t think that he forgot any important anniversaries. Couldn’t recall anything he did that might’ve pissed her off. Only later would he understand that it wasn’t about what he did or didn’t do, but instead about Rolo Stevens. 

“Fine!” He shouted. Hot tears were forming at the corners of his eyes and he felt like his heart was trying to claw its way out of his throat. 

Despite how hurt he was, he wanted to win this breakup. Something inside of him begged to have the final word this time around and if it really was as over as she was instituting it was, then fuck it, he was going to get it. “But the next time you decide that you want _this_ again-” He waved his finger in the space between them. 

“There won’t be any ‘again’, Lance!” She snapped, smacking his hand away. It hurt his pride more than it hurt his hand. They both backed away from each other in complete shock. Their fights got heated sometimes, but they never got physical. Never once did the other lay a hand on the other that was intentionally harmful.

“There won't be any again.” She repeated before storming off.

There would always be an “again” when it came to Nyma and him though, and they both knew it. They were no good for each other, but they were also the only thing the other knew, so by some fucked up and inexplicable law of the universe, they would be getting back together. 

He just didn’t know when. 

And that’s the worst part.

No, the worst part is that now, not even twenty-four hours after she dumped and left him, she was posting photos of her and her new boyfriend all over her social media accounts and she didn’t even have the decency to block him first. She wants him to see it. Needs him to look at how fine she is now that she’s ditched him.

“Lance, buddy, you good?” Pidge waved a hand in front of his face, attempting to bring his attention from his phone screen to the world around him. 

The Altea Academy library’s upper floor was currently reserved for Mr.Blaytz study hall. An optional class that students who had jobs, were involved in sports, clubs, or any other time consuming after school activities could take for an elective credit and an hour of productivity. 

Hunk and Pidge fit into none of these categories but the trio needed at least one class period together, and if that period was study hall, then who were they to complain? It’s not as if Blaytz was the worst teacher they could have gotten stuck with. 

“Huh? Yes, of course I’m good. I’m better than good! Look-” Lance turned his phone screen to show them and then clicked on the tiny circle to replay Nyma’s story. “Look! She has a new boyfriend and I’m fucking-“

His little outburst gained him a glare from the passing librarian and a couple of shushes from the other students. Blaytz remained half focused on his own phone, unconcerned with his charges. 

“Isn’t that the guy she was texting while you guys were together?” Pidge asked, completely unfazed.

“Rolo Stevens, right?” Hunk inquired.

“Is that his name?”

“I think we had gym with him in freshman year.”

Pidge nodded, “And how was that? Did he whip you with a towel like in those shitty movies from the 80’s? Throw tampons at you when you got your first period in the shower? Steal your gym clothes and for you to run around the school nude thirty seconds before the bell rang?”

“No, but I still do not want to relive it.” Hunk said. “ I know you opted out of physical education but I hope you understand it’s not anything like you see on the T.V.” 

“I opted out _because_ of what I saw on the T.V. I am a firm believer in the theory that physical education courses were made for a very specific type of high schooler.”

Hunk nodded in agreement. “We, my friend, are not those high schoolers.”

They fist bumped in solidarity. 

“For your information, she was texting him while we were on a break.” Lance chimed in, correcting the original course of conversation. 

Pidge and Hunk shared a quick glance that Lance was unable to decipher and then they turned their eyes on him. While Hunk was his best friend and he was Hunk’s, he never completely understood how Pidge ever managed to join in on the equation that was their friendship. 

They were two years younger than the pair, yet they were on track to graduate at the same time as them. If being one of those mad genius types wasn’t enough of an enigma, neither of them knew how or when they first appeared, only that one day they started sitting next to Hunk in Computer Science, and not long after they were tagging along on movie nights and lunch breaks.

“The break you took _because_ she was texting him, you mean?”

He pointed at Pidge and put his other arm up as an imaginary wall. “I don’t like them at all.” He said, making no attempt to lower his voice.

Pidge stuck their tongue out. Lance stuck his out too in retaliation. “I don’t like them-“ they began to mock.

“I’m sorry, I thought I heard someone below the national average height attempting to talk to me.”

“Guys, can we _please_ keep this civil?” Hunk pointed his finger at the study packet in front of Lance that was filled out with various doodles and notes. “Lance, if you don’t pass your calculus test next period then-”

“Then I can’t play in next Friday’s game. I know. Trust me, I know” Lance finished. If he didn’t maintain his grades then it wouldn’t matter that he’d been offered a spot on the soccer team this season, because he’d be benched until he managed to pull his weight in his classes. “I’m sorry I called you short, Pidge.”

“And I’m sorry that I reminded you of what an awful and terrible person Nyma Wilson is.”

Lance looked to Hunk with his _see?_ expression. Pidge just shrugged it off as Hunk sighed. 

“Derivatives. Now. Please.”

Lance huffed, pressing his mechanical pencil down on his paper and snapping the led. “Derivatives.”

-

Lance is fairly certain he did decently on the test, both because of the extra help he got from his friends and because any question he found himself stuck at could be found on the test exactly one desk ahead and to the left of him. He’d gotten good at faking it until he made it, and if Ryan Kinkade's answers were any good, that meant that his were too. He had to thank Mr.C’s meticulous seating chart habits for allowing him a perfect view of Kinkade’s paper and Kinkade for his excellent robot-like handwriting making it easier on him. Cheating was an art best performed when one didn’t have to decipher chicken scratch.

He’s also fairly certain that he’s slowing the rest of the soccer team down. He was sloppy during warmups, tripping over his own feet. 

_You’re supposed to go_ around _the cones, McClain!_

He had grass stains mixed in with the light blue of his practice jersey before the first half hour had even passed. 

When Coach Iverson split the team in half to scrimmage, Lance just couldn’t seem to get the ball into the net. It was odds against evens and the rest of the evens caught into the fact that Lance was having a shitty day. It had gotten to the point where his teammates refused to even pass to him. 

At this point, giving his all means trying to keep up with everyone else and failing at it. Anderson kicked the ball to him and he took off. He made it to the other team's goal with minimal interruption.

This was it.

Redemption.

He kicked the ball at the goalie rather than the goal itself.

Lance honestly didn’t think today could get any worse. Griffin reacted with amazing speed, raising his arms in front of his face, reducing any significant damage that could be done. 

“Dude, you’re supposed to aim for the net, not my fucking face!” He shouted at Lance. The parts of his skin when the ball hit were already turning red from the impact.

“McClain!” Iverson shouted, “What in the flying fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

“I-”

“Careful Coach! He just got dumped!” Griffin shouted from inside the goal.

Great. So the entire school knew.

“That doesn’t matter!” 

His twin sister, Veronica, had once told Lance that he had a big mouth. She’d said that one day it would get him into trouble. Granted, he thought that that day had come a long time ago but apparently it hadn’t because without a single second of hesitation, the lie that would doom him slipped from his tongue as slick as butter on a hot skillet. “I’m dating someone new too,” he hated every single word that came out of his mouth. Even more so, he hated that he was aware that they were wrong and he still couldn’t stop them. “Nyma isn’t the only one who can move on.”

“Really?” Griffin asked. “You haven’t dated anyone else since we were sixteen, McClain. Do you even know how to move on?”

“Just because we were together for a long time doesn’t mean our relationship would

have been the be-all-end-all.”

“Then when do we get to meet your new girlfriend, huh?”

He heard someone say, “ _Maybe we won’t. Maybe she lives in Canada.”_

The players were all chuckling and exchanging jokes in hushed voices where Lance’s non-existent love life is the punchline. 

“Friday’s game. She’ll be there on the bleachers cheering _me_ on.”

“Yeah, yeah.” His fists met his hips and a devilish smile appeared on his face. “That is, if you ever even make it off of the bench.”

Before he could respond to that jab, Iverson broke up their argument. “What has any of this got to do with soccer? Please, enlighten me and maybe I’ll entertain whatever the hell you two idiots are jabbering on about. Last I checked, this is a _field_! Not a place for your catfights. ” Iverson snapped.

The field died down, the chuckles turning into tiny sniggers. This wasn’t a playfully pissed off Iverson moment. This was him, fully and completely enraged. 

“I’m sorry, Coach.” He said.

“You’re sorry? Sorry doesn’t fix the fact that you’re trying to give our star player a concussion before the first game of the season!” 

“I understand.” He mumbled

“What was that?”

“I said I understand, _okay_?” 

Everyone went completely silent with the exception of Iverson, who lowered his voice to a tone barely above a whisper. 

“Don’t get all snippy with me. I hope that you don’t forget that the only reason you’re on this team is because the student before you had behavioral issues and was expelled.”

James Griffin stiffened at the sudden mention of Lance’s counterpart.

 _Remember your place_ was something he’d been hearing for as long as he’d been at Altea Academy and oh, he couldn’t forget it. Keith Kogane was dumb enough to get himself into a fight with Griffin last year, earning himself expulsion from both the school and the sport, opening up a spot for Lance to join in at the beginning of the season this year. When Altea Academy set up a star sports team, they tended to stick with that team until graduation, but this was an exception as they needed a spot to fill and Lance was the next best thing.

At first, complete expulsion seemed like an overreaction. The school board showing a little too much interest and care for one particular student. That was until Griffin showed up to school a week later with a crooked nose and his arm in a cast. He would send an icy glare to anyone who asked him about what incited the fight. To this day, no one besides the two boys knew what happened on that field, and no one dared utter the name Keith Kogane in the presence of James Griffin. 

Remembering his place always came back to Keith Kogane because it was somehow always Keith’s fault that he was in said place in the first place. It was for this reason that he kept an itemized list as to all the reasons he hated Keith in his head.

Reason number one was the way he always wore the same two black and red hoodies, even in the summertime. Not that this was a valid reason to hate Keith, as Pidge had once told him as he recited this very same list to them one Saturday night, but he just found the entire alternating hoodie thing annoying, so it stayed on the list as a precedence for the things to come. For someone as pale and tired-looking as Keith was, Lance thought he ought to get out into the sun more. 

Reason number two was the way he managed to stay at the top with seemingly no effort at all. Lance knew Keith always either slept through his classes or skipped them entirely because he shared not two, but three class periods with the guy during their junior year. Frankly, he was kind of jealous that Keith could spend the entire period with his head down on his desk and still manage to set the curve but he would never admit that. 

The third reason appeared around his seventh or eight breakup with Nyma. That breakup only occurred because she offhandedly commented that Keith was “kind of cute”, and while Lance somewhat agreed, it still wasn’t a thing he felt needed to be said out loud. No more explanation needed. They got back together a few days later after they both had cooled off.

The fourth and final reason that Lance McClain hated Keith Kogane was because Keith hated Lance just as much. Though he had no solid confirmation of this, he had tons of evidence to back his theory up. Keith had always looked at Lance with his eyebrows knitted together and a frown on his face, like he was a complicated math problem Keith was trying to solve. Well, maybe Keith just hated everyone. 

He was anti-social, curt, jumpy, grumpy, and everything Lance despised all rolled up into a five foot nine inch package.

If nothing else, at least Lance had a solid four inches on the guy.

“Yes, Coach.” He said. The entire scene was pathetic.

A few seconds of silence passed, leaving Lance to drown in his embarrassment. Finally, Iverson dismissed him. “Go home, McClain. And don’t come back until after you get your shit together.”

“Yes, Coach.” Lance repeated.

He walked off of the grassy field with his head hung low, unstrapping his gloves on his way to the locker rooms. The faster he was off of campus the better.

It’s only after he showers and manages to shove all of his gear into his duffel bag that he realizes just how fully fucked he is.

He lied about having a girlfriend, and now? Now he has exactly two weeks to find someone willing to fake date him just to prove something to James Griffin. He didn’t know why he even tolerated conversation with Griffin, especially when all it’s gotten him was in trouble.

Could Allura pose as his girlfriend? What would be a bigger “fuck you” than dating not only the student council president but also the daughter of the family that owned the school? No, that wouldn’t work because everyone already knew that the student council president was already dating the student council president of their rival school, Galra High. Lotor and Allura’s relationship had been a thing long before it had even officially been a thing, so it was really a matter of _when_ and not _if_ when it came to them being together. 

Pidge? He shook his head and gagged at the consideration. It would be too weird for the both of them. 

Nadia Rizavia? Not her either. She was, unfortunately, in James' circle of friends. And Lance only ever talked to her during their shared third period so it wasn’t like he was close enough to explain this situation to her without sounding like a complete idiot. Which, he supposed he was.

For a brief moment, he thought that Shay could pose as his girlfriend. She was sweet, charismatic, smart, and pretty. The only downside was that she was already dating Hunk. How could he even consider fake dating his best friend's girlfriend? Some lines were not meant to be crossed and this was one of them.

He was shoving his house key into his front door before he could come up with a proper solution. 

**Groupchat: Nerds (-lance)**

**Sharpshooter** _changed the group chat name_

**Groupchat: guys help!**

**Sharpshooter**

guys

**Sharpshooter**

guys i fucked up plz respond

**Pidgey**

???

what do you want

im trying 2 play BOTW and its a bit hard when ur blowing up my phone

**Hunkalicious**

Oh, Shay plays that.

She says it's really good.

Shay also says hi :)

**Sharpshooter**

tell her i said hi :)

ANYWAY!!!! back to me

i kind of

hold on im gonna send a voice message 

_*audio message sent*_

_*audio message sent*_

_*audio message sent*_

**Pidgey**

HA!

**Sharpshooter**

:( it’s not funnt

funny****

**Hunkalicious**

Oh wow.

Wowwwww

**Pidgey** _is calling…_

Lance hesitantly and regretfully accepts the call and is immediately greeted with Pidge’s maniacal cackling. 

“It’s not funny.” He states. He moves from his desk chair and begins to pace around the room in an attempt to calm himself down. “It’s really not funny at all.” 

“No, you’re wrong. This is actually the funniest thing to ever happen to you. Possibly ever and I was there when you accidentally put your hand on a hot stovetop.”

“I thought it was hot!”

“It was _glowing,_ Lance.”

“Whatever,” he concedes. “I don’t understand why you can’t just use a gas stove like a normal person!”

Hunk’s face appears on his screen, pushing Pidge to the right and Lance down to the bottom. He’s not laughing as much as Pidge is, but there's still a smile on his face. “Wow.”

“That is literally all you’ve managed to say since I’ve told you about this. Is Shay there? Bring me Shay, she’s nicer than all of you.”

“She’s here, she just doesn’t want you to see her laughing.” He turned the camera a bit so Lance could see her and sure enough, Shay was suppressing her laugh with a freckled hand. “See?”

“Okay so your problem is that you can’t find a girl to fake date, right?” Pidge asks, still chuckling but turning their attention back to their Switch. He doesn’t offer an answer because this line of questioning meant that they had already come up with one on their own. The lights on their end flash and he can see the reflection of the game in their glasses. “You’re bi, just date a guy instead.”

“I’m not-” Lance lowered his voice and rushed to make sure that his bedroom door was closed. It was, but he locked it anyway as a precaution. Despite that, he kept his voice lowered. He knew how thin the walls of his house were and how easily secrets could slide right through them. “Im not even sure if I am bisexual, okay?”

“This could be an amazing opportunity to find out.”

“Not everything is some experiment, Pidge! I’m not going to fake date a guy and then be labeled as the bi-guy who faked being bi.” Or worse. What if he discovered that he actually was bisexual. He’d barely begun to wrap his head around the possibility of him being anything but straight so he couldn’t imagine the actuality of it. 

“You’d rather be labeled as the guy couldn’t suck up his sexuality crisis long enough that he got exposed as the guy who lied about having a girlfriend to make his breakup seem less pathetic?” They were right. Lance could be angry at them all he wanted but the fact that he was angry at all was just further proof that they were right. 

“Or the guy-” Hunk said.

“The point is that I _really_ don’t wanna be a guy at all!” 

“I have to agree with Lance on this one.” Shay chimed in at last. “Dating a guy might be _no bueno_. That could be a terrible situation for everyone involved.”

“To be fair, babe, it’s already a terrible situation for everyone involved.”

“Hunk,” She said.

“Yes?”

“We’re involved.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Lance, this is a terrible situation and you have implicated all of us.”

“What else are friends for?” Lance sighed. “I guess if I don’t have a choice…but now that I’m thinking about expanding my options it’s making me realize that I might still be screwed. If a girl won’t date me, what makes it any easier for a guy to date me? If you haven’t realized Altea isn’t really the most accepting of schools.”

The call went silent with that. They all got their fair share of shit for just being who they were and while they weren’t ashamed about any of it, it got old really quick.

“Whatever,” he said, attempting to change the subject. He finally stopped pacing around the room in favor of flopping down on his bed. “I’ll figure something out later. Tell me something to get my mind off of this trainwreck.” 

Shay and Pidge took this as an opportunity launched into a pedantic conversation about Breath of the Wild. He thought he heard them mention something about a demon, but it all felt completely foreign to him. Still, it was nice to hear about their obsessive ramblings rather than focus on the problem at hand. 

Setting his phone down onto his pillow, he stared up at the faded green glow in the dark stars that stuck to his bedroom ceiling.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, everyone would have forgotten about his little lie by the next day. Surely the student body would have been talking about how Thomas Weir had caused a minor explosion in the chemistry lab, resulting in the evacuation of the entire class, the one next to it, and the one next to that one. But who cared about any of that when everyone was buzzing about who Lance’s new girlfriend was? Really, he felt people made a bigger deal out of it than they probably should have.

Nyma was not an exception.

Lance pulled his Chemistry textbook out of his locker and then slammed it shut so it made a satisfying banging noise. Then he slammed it a second time. Just for good measure, he unlocked it and slammed it shit a third time. 

“So Lance,” Nyma popped her bubblegum while twirling her blonde hair in a hypnotic pattern around her finger.

He jumped, barely managing to keep hold of his book. “Gah!” 

She, of course, remained as tactful and polished as ever. “Heard you got a new girlfriend, Lance. She any cute?” Nyma was nothing if not thorough when it came to making sure he was as miserable as possible.

He should stop this now. Nip it in the bud. 

“Gorgeous.” He lied. “Beautiful. Really Nyma, I should thank you for leaving me for that piece of shit-what was his name again? Rushmore?”

“Rolo-”

“Right, Roman.” He smirked. “Anyway, thanks to you I’ve finally managed to move onto greener pastures.” Shit. Shit shit shit. Lance pushed past her, setting a pace that wasn’t running, but not exactly walking either. The sooner he got away from the conversation, the better.

“Wait, Lance!”

He stopped, his sneakers squeaking against the floor, but he didn’t turn. He was afraid that if he did, his face would reveal it all.

He was an idiot and hoped that she was going to say that leaving him was a mistake. Instead, all she asked was a simple question. 

“She’ll be at Friday’s game?” Nyma asked, condescending as ever.

“Against Galra High?”

“That is where the game is being held, yes.” She confirmed. He could just _feel_ her rolling

her eyes at him.

“Then, yes. She’ll be there.” 

“Cool.” 

He’d known her and all of her little moods long enough now to realize that this wasn’t as nonchalant of a response as she intended it to be. In her words there was a tiny hint of…

“Nyma, are you jealous?”

She just scoffed as if it should have all been obvious. “I’m _allowed_.”

And oh, how that sent him reeling.

 _She_ left _him_.

She had no right to be jealous over his new non-existent partner.

He had no idea why he was getting so defensive over someone who didn’t even exist, but he quite liked the idea that he could make his ex feel the same exact thing that he had been feeling for the past two years. Did that make him a bad person? 

Before he could respond to her, the warning bell rang, and she took off in the complete opposite direction. Nyma And her hightops tapped up the stair-case in a way that made her ponytail bounce with every step she took. This wing of the school had been reduced to a couple of running students who were probably hoping not to get tardy slips and security guards whose keys echoed and jangled throughout the halls. 

Lance just stood there trying to put a name to the newfound emotions inside of him.

It wasn’t quite pride and something sort of along the line of hatred. Whatever it was, it stuck around until the final bell rang on Friday afternoon, signaling that his deadline was only a week away.

-

“Remind me what we’re doing again?” Lance asked as he buckled himself into the back seat of Shay’s pickup truck. It made a horrendous sound as it backed out of the McClain’s driveway. Really, he didn’t know why he continued to accept rides from Shay over and over again when it constantly caused him to fear for his life. 

He clutched onto his seatbelt in a lame attempt to steady himself as Shay made a turn. “Pidge’s brother is back from college for the week-” Hunk said, gripping what they deemed the _oh shit_ handle. “With his friend and they invited us to hang out.”

“Oh, Ivy League?”

“His name is Matt,” Hunk corrected. “He’s very cool and smart and I hope you don’t embarrass us in front of him.”

Shay interjected. “Also, MIT isn’t an Ivy League school.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance made an unenthusiastic gesture with his hand. He knew everyone had already met each other when Pidge and Hunk went to tour the campus last summer, leaving him alone in California for an entire weekend. 

“You literally agreed to this, remember?”

“No?” He didn’t remember, but his brain was too wrecked from the week's events that he gave up on trying to even recall the conversation.

“It’ll be fun!”

Lance doubted it would be anything but. Two MIT students and two more who are set to follow. That left Lance as the odd man out. And even though Shay wasn’t part of the tech school group, she could still follow along their conversations with ease. She could blend. He wasn’t a genius or a prodigy or anything great like that, he was just Lance. Lance who was probably going to spend the next few hours tucked into a corner in the Holt’s living room nursing a capri-sun pouch until his ride decided it was time to go. Well, if things took a turn for the worst and he embarrassed himself before the evening was up he supposed he could just run home. It’d be great practice. “And why are they even back from college? We’re kind of in the middle of the school year.” 

“I...am actually not too sure. Anyway, it’s going to be the Holt siblings, us, Shiro-that’s Matt’s friend-and Shiro’s little brother.” Hunk explained.

“Great,” Lance sat back in his seat and began to play with the hem of his shirt. “A room full of geeks and somehow, I’m gonna be the outcast.” 

He thought he was pretty geeky in his own little way, but that didn’t mean he was about to let anyone in on the fact that he’s had the same NASA hoodie since middle school and had been buying annual passes to the planetarium since the seventh grade. He most certainly wasn’t going to let anyone know about the Mars Exploration Rover lego model sitting on his bookshelf that he hid away whenever he had company.

He could keep all of the little parts of himself that he deemed anything less than perfect to himself. He preferred it that way. 

Five minutes later they pulled off of the freeway and the upbeat songs playing on the radio did nothing to improve his mood.

Ten minutes after that they were slamming the car doors shut and opening the door to the Holt's house. A two-story building that resided just off of the Garrison Military Academy’s campus grounds. Lance always felt a little uncomfortable being so close to so many military brats at once.

On the couch sat Pidge, and next to them was a slightly taller and broader guy who only could have been Pidge’s older brother. The resemblance between them was remarkable. Like they were carbon copies or clones of each other.

One more person was in the room; he was sitting on the floor at Matt Holt’s feet. His hair was an impossible shade of white and the sides were showing signs of growing back. Lance noticed a faint scar that stretched horizontally across the bridge of his nose. 

But Hunk said that there would be four people here.

If the group noticed that the three of them had entered the house, they showed no signs of it. Their focus stayed on the bright, flashing colors on the television screen.

They were each holding different colored controllers-one black, one green, and another with LED lights that changed colors depending on whichever way the analog stick went-while Mario Kart music filled the room. They all played in concentrated silence that no one dared to disrupt. Lance had four siblings, so he understood the significance of the picture in front of him.

On the coffee table, he noticed that there was a fourth controller. A red one. It was powered off, meaning that it’s owner either quit playing already or never started in the first place.

Matt, who was barely holding eighth place, finished his final lap and the scores popped up on the screen. Shiro came in second, Pidge in first, and Matt in...well Matt Holt was dead last despite his eighth place “miracle”. 

“What’s with the spare controller?” Hunk asked, attempting to make the group's presence known. 

“Oh.” Pidge glanced to the coffee table and then back to them. “I didn’t notice that he left. Anyway, you want in?” They asked, completely ignoring all forms of greeting. Lance was grateful for this; he didn’t think he could handle shaking hands with people who were probably going to end up ignoring him anyway.

“He stopped playing after the first round anyway,” Matt waved his hand as if to show that he wasn’t too concerned about the mystery player's disappearance. Shay sat down, taking the fourth controller and Pidge reached into a drawer on the entertainment system and pulled out one more, offering it to Lance or Hunk. 

“Loser switches out next round?” A yellow one that Hunk accepted without hesitation. Within seconds everyone had already picked their characters and their vehicles. The map was randomized.

“Great, good.” The countdown began and engines were already revving. ”Lance, there’s pizza in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

And then the game started.

And just like that he was in his own little world.

Lance McClain often was the loudest person in the room, but that only served to also make him the loneliest. He could talk and talk as much as he liked, no one was _actually_ listening.

Closing the kitchen door muffled out the sounds of the living room behind him. There was cursing, there were threats, and there was fun which was grand and all, except Lance wasn’t a part of any of it and he couldn't figure out how to begin to insert himself. 

A stack of paper plates and boxes of pizza sat on the island. Cans of soda were scattered all around every surface that was available. 

“Who the hell eats pineapple on pizza?” He asked no one in particular when he approached the already opened box. He was disgusted. Revolted, even. This should have been the final straw; a sign to get out of here before things could get any worse. There was specifically one slice taken out of it while the others were half-way raided. “What kind of psychopathic-”

The sound of the backyard glass door clicking shut startled him so much that he forgot he was even bashing an imaginary person. The smell of smoke briefly filled the kitchen. 

He had a theory about who it was before he even turned around because there was only one person it could have been. 

This was Shiro’s little brother.

The missing owner of the powered off fourth controller.

Probably the person who suggested the pineapple pizza should be ordered.

When he saw Lance, he said: “Shit.”

When Lance saw him, he said: “Keith?”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :)  
> you can find me on tumblr or twitter @promptoads


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